A Story of Champions
by Pmoe
Summary: One night Sarah, a Senior in high school listens to a story told by her Grandfather John Fortune. This story tells the story of Miss Fortune, a captain of the Syren, and a bounty hunter in the seas of Runeterra. Learning about this story which Sarah assumes is fictional, weird events begin to transpire, and the world of League of Legends and Sarah's own begin to collide.
1. A Story of Champions: Introduction

The warmth of my bed began to comfort me as I settled in. My grandfather sat down next to me and dimmed the lamp on my night table. As the shadows spread around the room I felt security settle me down. My grandfather looked at me with his blue eyes.

He was a sturdy man; still young and full of vigor. His face was chiseled and his smile was warming. I had lived with him for as long as I can remember. With my parents gone and no one else to take care of me, he stepped in and took me under his wing.

"And how was your day Sarah?", he looked at me in wait of a response.

"Well, I decided that I am done with high school. All of the kids my age are over dramatic and don't care about learning, so the teachers have to teach to their speed. I'm just bored all day because I get it all really fast.", I huffed.

"Well, it's people like you that are gonna make a difference in the world. Only those who care enough to accel will go down in history, and regardless, you are almost to graduation. Your time is closer than it feels."

Despite the name John Fortune, Grandpa was a modest man of modest wealth. As far as I knew he had never had an extraordinary life. Quite the opposite in fact, as he and I were the only living members of our family. For a man that I am sure had faced a lot of pain in his life he always managed to remain an optimist.

"Do you want to hear a story, Sarah?"

"Don't you think that I am a little old for bedtime stories?"

"I don't think that anyone can be too old for a little bit of wisdom."

I grinned at him for a moment. "Well let's hear it then."

He straightened his back in my desk chair and took a breath as he began, "Not too long ago in a realm very different from our own, the world was in a constant state of imbalance as factions fought to uphold the ideals which they thought were right. This was a world of magic and gods, creators and destroyers, adventurers and rulers. The people of this world were not all as simple as you and I. Among the factions, the strongest were summoned to a plain of existence to face off in an arena which would come to be known as the Field of Justice. These individuals were very different from each other and each fought for his or her own reasons. This story is about this collection of heroes!" he shook a fist to emphasize his story and looked at me as if waiting for approval.

"That wouldn't make for a really catchy title." I teased at him with a smile.

He huffed, jokingly disappointed, "Fine," his fist raised again, "this story is about that League of Legends."

**Author's Note: Hell everyone and welcome to A Story of Champions. I am super excited to take this story on as this is my first ever fan fiction. My name is Parker Christiansen, and I have enjoyed writing for a long time but recently I haven't really found my niche, so I decided to take on this project. I have been playing League since Season 1 and it is by far my favorite game. So I hope that I will do this justice. I anticipate seeing if I get any views on this story at all and would love any and all feedback.**


	2. Chapter 1: Taking the Wyrmwood

**Author's Note: This is the first chapter to A Story of Champions. If you haven't read the introduction then please do so. This is my first story (of this genre) that I have ever written, and the first time I have shared any of my writing publicly. Please send me feedback if you have any questions or concerns and I will do my best to make the story satisfying for everyone!**

Shadows cast by a large cloud upon the deck and the mainsail which lightly flowed in the calm breeze. The moon was full and shone brightly throughout the water. A silent ship, The Syren, lay in wait in those silver waters off the East Coast of Runeterra. The cries of the carrion gulls had died with the sunset, and now the only sound or motion was the lapping of the water on the darkened hull of the ship. The ship could have been invisible or ghostly to any others in the waters, but what was aboard told a different story.

Peering eyes gazed across the water. Their owners hid along the wooden deck. They were watching. They were waiting.

Along starboard went the whisper of a message. This was passed down, along the crouching men to the base of the upper deck where Miss Fortune stood in the cover of the stairs leading to the stern. She was leaning over the bittacle reading a map by the light of a dim lantern and smoking a rather pricey cheroot. A man by the name of Cleryx stood before the captain and said with uncertainty, "Sighted ma'am."

Miss Fortune continued to look at her map, "if any one of you moves before I give the word then you'll be joining our friends on their descent."

"Understood Miss but they are in range."

"Damn it, I said not yet." She looked up at the man and, with her blue eyes, settled the argument. A nod from the sailor and he crouched back into position.

The plan was simple enough, a sneak attack. Though it wasn't her preferred type of attack, the captain was content in her plan. The approaching ship, the Wyrmwood, wouldn't be able to detect the Syren in the shadows of the night. The pirates aboard would be cockily gearing for their second raid of Bandle city, and even if their lookout was searching he wouldn't see the hull which was parallel to the landscape on their port side.

Nearly ten minutes passed and the men were itching to move. They sat like a loaded spring, each man ready to pounce. The Wyrmwood was moving much closer and men were beginning to question the plan. Another long minute and the cloud, which had cloaked the hull in darkness, began to blow. Just as the bow was bathed in bright moonlight a loud cry went out from the blood-haired woman.

"ALL HANDS!"

The Syren burst to life as the men lit the lanterns, all in an instant, and the ship became bathed in yellow light. The crew began to shout and hoot and holler. Gunshots were fired into the air and it was on.

From across the water, the Wyrmwood came to life as well. The Captain's plan had worked. Now it was time to retrieve the artifact which the pirates of the Wyrmwood had stolen.

"Come about, starboard side! Half-mast, and let's greet our friends! Remember this, Captain Lassinger is mine." Miss fortune barked her orders and like a well-oiled hextech machine, the men of The Syren followed them to the letter.

As the ships came closer the Captain told the chase guns to let loose the chain shots and down the Wyrmwood's masts. Splinters flew and screams were lost in the span of the water. Miss Fortune couldn't help but lick her lips at the thought of the bounty she'd collect for this, and now that the Wyrmwood wasn't going anywhere, it was time for action.

"Bring us about their portside Mr. Rafen."

Her first shipmate stood at the helm and obeyed her bark. The Syren drifted through the water and as the ships came closer to each other's broadsides, without needing to be told, the rope began to fly. The Wyrmwood was a disarray of chaos as men already bleeding fumbled around to their battle stations, some not even yet dressed for the raid they had planned for the night. How terrible were these pirates? Miss Fortune couldn't fathom how it was that these wharf-rats had managed to steal from the highly defended Bandle City.

The masts had fallen or were on their way down as the ships were hooked together. A simultaneous battle cry rang out through the air on the side of The Syren, and the boarding began.

Battle raged as the men of the Wyrmwood finally found a sense of purpose and began to put up what, at the very least, could be called a defense. The crews fought and shouted. The air smelled of blood. From the top of the stairs on the stern of the Syren Miss Fortune rained down constant and lethally precise fire from her twin pistols Shock and Awe. She chuckled and sneered as she hailed bullets upon the deck of the other ship. This was too easy.

The battle raged on, and an obvious victor began to emerge. The Wyrmwood simply was not prepared for this. Splinters, bodies, and their respective pools of blood filled the small span between the two ships. A fire had been started at some point on the deck of the Wyrmwood and several individuals were running around having been set ablaze either intentionally or by mistake in the carnage. Standing above the scene was Captain Fortune with nothing to lend but her incredulously sadistic smile. With a graceful swing of a rope and a flurry of red hair, the woman was upon the deck of the enemy ship.

"Oh, Lassinger! Come out and play, Big Boy. You wouldn't want to disappoint me would you?", she cockily shouted out.

The Captain walked along a line of dead or restrained pirates looking each in the face and to some even gave a chipper wink, and on her cue, the doors to Captain's quarters swung open and clenched between the arm's of Fortune's sailors was Captain Lassinger. His clothes were ripped in various places, and blood dripped from his mouth and nose.

"There you are Lassy!", Miss Fortune chirped, "you know, you aren't looking too great. Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Filthy bitch!" Lassinger spat blood at the feet of the other captain.

Miss Fortune gave a nod to one of the mates which held the Captain, and, with a smile, he turned inward and punched Lassinger heavily in the gut. Lassinger fell to his knees and coughed and sputtered.

"It doesn't appear that you are in that great of shape these days. You really have put on weight since you lost your last ship."

Lassinger looked upward to the face of the sarcastic Captain and muttered, "you mean since you stole my ship?"

"What can I say?" Miss Fortune covered her face in a false blush, "I really liked The Syren, and I really didn't like you, or where you tried to touch me."

Lassinger chuckled and his face fell again toward the ground. His chuckle turned into a cough again for a moment and when it subsided he said, with his face still hidden, "And what was the bounty for me this time?"

"I don't think that is any of your concern. In fact, I believe you have much else to worry about right now. I do, however, wonder where it is that you put your latest prize which you took from Bandle City."

"Buried it days ago; you'll never find the mark."

"Something tells me, Captain, that you are full of shit." She turned around to the rest of her crew which had stood by holding the pirates which had surrendered and watching the exchange take place, "Search below mates! Hit the bilge if you don't find it. I believe that what we are looking for is somewhere on this ship and I don't plan to leave until we have it."

The sailors chanted back with a synchronized "AYE" and some of the men began to descend the decks. Miss Fortune turned back towards the other Captain who was now standing once again, held by her men. Lassinger spoke, "So whatcha' gon' take this time Lass? You want the Wyrmwood? Fuckin' hell, she is already a splinter anyway. Take her and drop-"

"I'm not interested in your worthless ship Lassinger, nor anything else you have to offer but that necklace." she nodded to her man again, "Bind him to the mast."

Miss Fortune stepped aside and her men moved the man towards the mast which was hardly more than a thick, tall splinter. They bound him quickly, and the woman stepped towards Lassinger. She came very close before exhaling and waving a hand in front of her nose. With a smirk, she said, "You really need to lay off of the rum, Lassy. I can smell the decay on you."

"Are you just going to mock me then? If you don't want the ship what are you going to do?"

"You know," Miss Fortune laughed, "I'm not sure that was the question you wanted to ask."

The Captain turned again to her men which still stood upon the deck of the Wyrmwood with their guns at the heads, and blades at the necks of the surviving pirates. She raised a hand and let it fall again. Without hesitation, her men executed the remaining pirates who fell to the floor.

"You're a right crazy bitch, Fortune!"

"And you, Sir, are a pirate. So tell me, which do you think pays better?"

Lassinger spit. "You're gonna have me struck down like a dog, now?"

"Oh no, Mr. Lassinger. I'm going to leave you here on your ship just like this, and I am going to sail back to the mainland and return what you stole, for a rather ridiculous bounty. I wonder what it is that about that necklace that our mutual friend, Tristana, has such an interest in. I suppose that doesn't really concern you anymore, though."

The captain turned at the sound of cheering coming from behind her. She saw as three men appear from Lassinger's quarters carrying a small chest. They brought it to her and opened the lid revealing the necklace which they had come for. Miss Fortune grasped the chain and lifted the large piece from the box. She smiled with a large grin.

"Right on ya, Lads."

The woman turned back to Lassinger who had an expression of chiseled stone, "I knew you were full of shit captain. I just hope it doesn't ruin the taste for the critters below."

Her crew began to cheer as Lassinger began to fight and struggle at his restraints. He shouted in a questioning protest. "Captain. You ain't gon just do this to me are ya? Go ahead and maroon me again. You got what'cha came for."

"All hands back to the Syren! Let's put her down and make way for Bandle City."

The crew members climbed the ropes and leaped back to the other ship in response to the captain's orders. Miss Fortune stood looking at the bloodied captain as he continued his struggle. She spoke in a deathly, serious tone, "Thank you for your help, Captain, I hope the swimmers get to you before the water does."

The restrained captain shouted louder, but his fuss did not draw any reaction. Once every individual was back on the Syren and Miss Fortune in her place at the wheel, she said to the man on her right, "Mr. Rafen."

He smiled and responded, "My pleasure ma'am." turning towards the rest of the men he shouted out, "Cannons," a rest, "Put'er down!"

The cannons fired from below the decks and as the ships pushed apart the new holes on the side of the Wyrmwood began to take on water. Lassinger, aboard the deck of the Wyrmwood, still fussed and squirmed but no curse that the man shouted would change what would happen to him now.

At the Captain's request, the sails were lowered and the Syren took to the wind and made a course for the mainland. The maddening screams of the pirate eventually ceased as the sea swallowed him and the Wyrmwood. Miss Fortune placed the necklace around her neck where she planned to keep it until she was to collect her bounty.

"Any casualties Mr. Rafen?

"None reported ma'am. The lot was easy to take. This'll be a fine bounty."

"We aren't there yet Quartermaster, but I think you're right. I'm just not sure how it was that a band of misfits like that was able to rob Bandle City, and not only that but the captain of the Bandle Gunners, herself."

"Don't look like it matter much now Miss. Les' just make sure we bring 'em back that necklace."

"Right," Miss Fortune stepped away from the wheel, "take the helm, sir. I am going below to sort through some things."

"Aye," the sailor stepped up to the wheel and leaned his weight on it, "take yer time Capn'."

With that, Miss Fortune descended the stairs to the main deck and turned right. She entered into her quarters and locked the door behind her. The Captain's head fell back and she leaned against the wall just inside the door. She let out a long sigh. After a moment, she walked deeper into her quarters and looked upon her room. Against the right wall was her bed, lavished with lace and Shurimian Cotton. In the center of the back wall in front of the window which looked out behind the ship, was her desk. Wrought with papers, bounties, and contracts, it was a mess. Laying on top of the papers were various ornate purses of coin, some were spilled over onto the desk.

The Captain walked to her bed and from her nightstand drew a framed picture. She held it in her hands for a moment. The portrait of a woman stared back at her. It was a woman whose hair was lighter, and more blonde than her own. In the woman's face, though, the resemblance was obvious. The captain felt sad as she missed her mother, she sat quietly for a moment just holding the frame to her chest.

Miss Fortune placed the frame back on her nightstand as she stood back up. She removed Shock and Awe from their holster bands around her waist. She placed the guns opposite each other on the desk and sat down in her cushioned chair. In the center of her desk, as a constant reminder, was a pile of bounties, bound together, telling of Gangplank's many thefts, raids, and murders. The thought of the gruesome and elusive pirate upset Miss Fortune more. She pushed the stack aside and her head fell to the desk. The necklace, which still hung from her neck, hit the desk as well and she immediately sat up at the sound of the thunk. She unclasped the necklace and pulled it from around her neck and lifted it in front of her face.

The necklace was in the shape of a circle. Crossed together were a cannon and a wrench, and in front of them to decorate the center was a missile. The circle they laid on was made of a polished and embroidered gold, and the affixed weapons were made of a purple jewel that Miss Fortune did not know the name of. She looked at this emblem for a moment before realizing that it was the Bandle Gunners' Crest. Though a gorgeous treasure, Miss Fortune still didn't know what made it so valuable.

While examining the crest she noticed a light. The emblem began to shine and the Captain was intrigued at this light which she thought was emanating from the jewel. The light began to grow brighter and brighter and Miss Fortune realized that this light wasn't coming from the necklace. She turned in her chair the find that the light was in fact coming from behind her. A void had opened in the air behind her, and it shone brightly with a light purple aura. Miss Fortune stood from her chair in surprise at this unwelcomed source of magic. Her chair fell backward to the floor.

Images began to appear in the center of the void. The images were fuzzy, and the Captain could not explain what she was seeing. She began to hear a voice. The voice began inaudibly but began to grow incredibly louder. Miss Fortune could not understand most of it. The voice belonged to an adult male. She thought that she could see a face appearing in the void. Was it two?

The voice began to circle in her mind, ringing louder and louder until she couldn't hear her own thoughts. "Sarah," the voice said, "Sarah."

The name was repeated over and over. Miss Fortune hadn't been called by that name for many years. The sound almost stung with unfamiliarity.

"That's it, Sarah. Sleep now."

The void began to expand. Miss Fortune found herself screaming, though she did not know why. She couldn't hear this scream over the sound of the void which now seemed to swallow her entire world. Suddenly Sarah Fortune couldn't hear anything. All was silent and all was dark. She didn't open her eyes, but she felt the absence of everything around her. She no longer felt the carpet which she had collapsed to in the chaos. She no longer smelled the salt of the Guardian Sea. She felt entirely alone, and for the first time in a long time, she felt scared. Miss Fortune had begun to weep. She never opened her eyes. She didn't remember when she stopped screaming. The world drifted away from her, and she lost consciousness.


	3. Chapter 2: A Day in the Modern Life

I awoke to the sound of my alarm clock blaring next to me. I was pulled from my dream of pirates at sea and back into the boring world of a high school girl. I turned over sluggishly to my side and my hand slammed down on my alarm clock, silencing its deafening sound. Though my eyes were still adjusting I could see the time was 6:44. It hit me like lightning. 6:44! I had snoozed my alarm three times and didn't even remember doing it. I threw my blankets from the bed and in a flash I had dashed out of my bedroom and into the adjoining bathroom. The tile was cold under my bare feet.

I turned on the light to be greeted by a figure in the mirror of a horrific, teenage, redhead monster. I took a moment to examine the damage. My head: my hair wasn't too terrible at second glance. Just needed to have a meeting with a brush and through rigorous negotiation would be fine. My eyes had large bags, and I could see in my reflection how tired I felt. I had slept face-down I could tell because red lines streaked across my cheeks where I had laid on my comforter. I was in my pajamas which hung loosely on my skin, my braless breasts were almost falling from my tank top. After I was done in here I would need to change. I wish that I had laid out an outfit last night.

Finishing my analysis in the mirror, I began my morning rituals at light speed. I brushed my teeth haphazardly and ran a brush through my hair. After I was finished I returned to my room and approached my closet to find an outfit. I found an ACDC t-shirt, and a hoodie which I respectively pulled over my head after stripping off my tank top and committing myself to the prison of a bra. From my dresser drawer I pulled a fresh pair of underwear and a ratty pair of jeans. I finished getting dressed and slung my backpack on my shoulder. I put on my glasses which laid on my nightstand and looked at the time once again. 6:55.

Satisfied in my rush, I unplugged my phone and made my way to the kitchen. John sat at the island eating a breakfast of eggs and toast. As I approached he took a sip of his water and swallowed.

"Snooze?"

I let out a smile, "Snooze."

"Do you have time for breakfast?" His offer made me stop for just a second.

From outside I could hear the honk of a school bus which reminded me, though I had driven my own car for quite some time, that I didn't have enough time.

"Fraid not." I picked up my grandfather's glass of water and in a single gulp finished it off.

He looked at me in a playful expression that stated inaudibly a word, "Seriously?" and with that I kissed him on the cheek and made my way for the door. From a bowl I grabbed my keys and opened the door to greet the morning air. "Love ya!" I shouted behind me, and closed the door on my way out.

I made my way to my car as I watched neighboring kids climb onto the bus some looking worse for wear than even myself. Once I was in my car I plugged my phone into the jack and pressed play. I turned the key in the ignition and my vehicle unimpressively came alive. My music began to play through the speakers a little louder than I expected, and as I turned it down quickly with the volume dial I mentally prepared myself for the day to come, or so I thought. I put the car in reverse and after backing out of the driveway, was on my way to East Savannah High School.

The thoughts of my dream came to mind as I made my morning drive. Obviously inspired by the story which John had told me the night before, the thoughts of pirates, and bounties, and murder filled my head. I remembered at one point where I had stood aboard a ship using two gorgeous, vintage pistols to shoot down at another boat. I remembered seeing my red hair flowing in the wind, which as the thought crossed my mind, I imagined for a second I could actually remember feeling. Though the dream had begun to fade in my memory, I recalled how amazingly lucid it had been.

The dream was exciting. Much more so than my regular life. At the age of eighteen, I was one of the smartest kids in my school. I had few friends, and it was probably due to my tendency to criticize people who did dumb things. Living in Georgia didn't help all too much either. I was aware that there were probably worse places to live, maybe the less populated areas outside of Savannah, but I already had my fair share of assholes to deal with. One in particular was Derek Crawford.

I had a pretty thick skin, but Derek managed to tweak every nerve I had. His constant unintelligible cussing bothered me plenty enough. He also managed to stick his nose in everyone else's business constantly. He acted with prejudice against any, and everyone that didn't fit into his click and was especially racist towards black people, and others of varying races. I knew he was just scraping by with grades hardly scratching C's because he didn't hide it. He always made a scene when he got a bad grade talking about how it was just the teacher's fault. "That bitch don't know how to fucking teach," he'd say. The pimply faced boy had no shortage of discipline problems, his constant behavior landed him in in-school-suspension more often than not, and he acted proud of it, showing off to his half-witted followers that he was just the ultimate badass.

Not saying I would ever kill someone in real life…

But I don't think I would mind running into a pirate like him on the high seas.

I shook the amusing and sadly impossible thought from my head. I was approaching my school zone now.

Crossing guards directed the flow of traffic which inched about painfully slow. I waited while listening to my music, for my arrival at the school. I pulled into the parking lot and into my space. I turned off my car and collected my bag and phone. As I walked out through the line of cars a large truck speedily crossed right in front of me. Derek.

From the height of his souped-up truck he sneered and reared his engine. Everything was always a joke with him. Having almost been hit by him and his oversized truck didn't entertain me for a second. He pulled into his spot, several spaces down the line, without any regard to how bad of a parking job he'd done. Crooked, and blocking probably as many as three spots the beast, which was obviously a compensation, died down as he turned the vehicle off. I continued walking towards the school and could hear behind me as Derek and his friends greeted each other with loud exclamations.

I made my way into the building and was greeted with the regular bustling of noise. I could hear a band student strumming lightly at his guitar where he sat in a window surrounded by girls whose faces left, only to the imagination, that their panties were nowhere to be found in his presence. I listened to the various conversations of weekend plans, or homework from the night before, and other normal teenage things.

I got my breakfast and sat down alone on a bench to eat with my headphones in. Just as I took my last few bites of my cardboard biscuit, first bell rang. I stood, and once again slung my bag over my shoulder. As I began to walk I was suddenly attacked by the form of a boy. The assault caught me off guard and froze me in my tracks for a moment.

"Did you see the new episode of _Star Gazer_ last night!"

Arthur.

"I keep telling you, I don't watch your show Arthur."

Arthur pushed his glasses onto his nose as he slung his arm around my shoulder.

"How can you not watch _Star Gazer_?" He was completely serious. To him this show was obviously of biblical proportions, " _Star Gazer_ capitalizes on the most desired aspects of entertainment! Romance, Action, Adventure, Tragedy, Mystery! It is a masterpiece and you just dismiss it like common-"

"Arthur you have until the count of zero to take your arm off of me."

Arthur quickly retracted the limb with lightning reflex and embarrassed, looked away for a moment. He composed his face which I could see was blushing and responded with, "Public image is everything babe. If you want to be my girlfriend, you gotta act like it!"

"In no dimension would I ever be your girlfriend, Arthur.", I walked around him and continued on my way to class.

"Why you gotta hate, Sarah? You're lucky you've got me. Do you know how many hearts I have broken for you?", he began to follow me closely again, this time without touching me.

"I've got a pretty good idea of a number."

"So cold, Red."

There was no point in telling him to stop the nicknames. Arthur continued his droning as we walked to class together. I drowned most of what he was saying with the sound of my music. Arthur and I had been friends for as long as I could remember. He had always been an oddball, but when it came down to it, he was resourceful.

His dad used to be military, and as far as I know he worked for a classified sector as a network security administrator, or at least that was the title which appeared on paper. This man was ridiculously intelligent. Growing up in a house like that, Arthur had always been rather tech savvy too. His dad taught him a lot about computers, and networking, and when it came down to it, I am sure that Arthur, like his father before him, were both capable of digital murder. Whatever that might mean.

Despite Arthur's persistent nature, and his tendency to make a fool of himself, he was one of the best friends and most reliable people I had known in my entire life. He often pursued me despite the fact that I was sure he knew he'd face rejection. At this point, it was simply how things were. He was in no way my type, though if asked I don't think I would be able to explain what that is. I think that I could have been classified as a nerd, but Arthur made me look like an ametuer. This boy who couldn't be described as anything but pubescent, despite his matured structure, was an avid consumer of anime, and manga, comics, fan fiction, porn, you-name-it. If a person could be bullied throughout his teenage years for it, one could assume that Arthur, himself, was a proud connoisseur. The boy talked big, but under this bravado, he was a softy.

What made Arthur and I become friends is that I found he wasn't like the other students I had met before. Sure he was a teenage boy, and come with that what will, he was brilliant. In his serious (this usually meant alone) state, he was a great conversationalist and really made my life much easier. Naturally, I would never confess this outwardly towards him or anyone else, as I worried what it would do to his already inflated ego.

We walked into the class where we found nothing more than the ordinary. Students were scattered throughout the room where they talked in various groups. I pushed through complacent teenagers and made my way towards the back corner of the room where I sat everyday. Arthur sat in his seat next to me, and we he continued to talk to me about how amazing _Star Gazer_ was until the tardy bell rang and the teacher walked into the room. The students quieted down and our school day began as usual.

"I hope everyone studied for today's quiz," Mr. Deburaux said to the class, "after today and tomorrow's assessments, we'll be moving into our 'net forces' section."

The teacher started the day, and for the length of the period, I simply did what I did every other day. Come lunchtime, I paid for my food and sat down at my bench with Arthur. He started to talk to me about various phenomena that he had been studying such as the six degrees of separation. He explained how this supposedly stated that all people in the world were connected socially through mutual friends, or something along those lines.

Our lunch period was almost at an end. I stood with Arthur to throw away my trash, and as I was walking I suddenly felt a strange sensation. The ground beneath my feet began to shake. I saw as everyone around me felt the same thing. The shaking was intense, was it an earthquake? Not in Georgia. What the hell was going on?

I looked to Arthur, who had collapsed to the ground in the shudder, I saw as trophies began to fall from the awards shelves and shatter on the ground. Posters and fliers fell to the floor. People began screaming and panicking. No one knew what was going on. Fear began to settle on me as some sort of alarm began to blare. Everyone staggered and tried to run to safety. I pulled Arthur by the hand and we shuffled under a nearby table to guard from various objects: ceiling panels, light components, and other debris, which had begun to fall. I covered my head and closed my eyes.

As quickly as it had begun, the shaking stopped. Things stopped falling, and people began to emerge from their cover. The yelling still continued; people had been hurt. I came out from under the table and stood there looking around. I heard a teacher's voice call out over the commotion, "Is anyone hurt?"

Just as the words escaped his mouth a blaring noise echo'd through the school. The sound was strange, almost of musical quality, like giant pieces of metal clashing together and creating a loud and high pitched ring, or a giant gong or bell being rung in the sky high above the school. Everyone was still in a panic. The lunch room was now darker, as many light fixtures had fallen. There was glass shattered on most of the ground.

I was scared and confused. I realized that I had begun to cry at some point. Never have I experienced anything like that before. I looked at Arthur who was still under the table and crouched down next to him. I asked, "Are you alright?"

He nodded his head, "Surprised, but fine. What was that?"

I shrugged at him. Whatever it was, it was big. I didn't know any other words to describe it. What could have caused the ground to shake like that around here, what was that sound? Just before it had happened, there was that feeling I had experienced. It was like a switch being flipped on deep in my head. It rang through my skeleton and every nerve in my body.

I had a feeling that whatever had just happened would happen again.


End file.
